


Living Well

by what_alchemy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Bullying, F/M, Female Foggy Nelson, Girl!Foggy, Insecurity, Mentions of homophobia, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_alchemy/pseuds/what_alchemy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are better fates than beauty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Well

Foggy’s shaking in a second floor bathroom stall that smells like someone poured lemons in a deep fryer and sloshed the floor with the grease. It’s just like high school all over again, and Foggy barks out a bitter laugh at the thought. Of course it’s like high school. What, exactly, did she expect her ten year reunion to be like? 

Foggy thought she was over this, thought she’d come into herself and rocked the self confidence like a goddamn badge, but she wonders now if there are some things you just don’t come all the way back from. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, because she is not shedding a tear for these people ever again. That was a promise she’d made to herself ten frigging years ago, and she’s not about to go breaking it now.

The door to the bathroom creaks open and sends her heartbeat skyrocketing, but the steps that come gingerly against the tile are as familiar to her as the press of her belly against her favorite t-shirt. Her shoulders relax.

“Foggy?” Matt says.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Are you okay?”

She snorts and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Matt’s shoes come to a stop in front of her stall, cane planted between them like a post.

“Sorry,” Matt says. “Stupid question, I guess.”

“I thought it would be like it is in the movies, you know?” she says. “I’d show up in my sweet dress with a hot guy on my arm and a business card in my pocket, proof that I own my own law firm and, I don’t know, the bullies would be appropriately cowed what with leading sad, small lives totally worse than mine and I could go back to my life having finally shed all my shitty high school baggage.” She scoffs. “Fucking stupid, I know.”

Matt shifts his weight from foot to foot. His swallow echoes around the tile of he bathroom, and Foggy feels like a regular Matt Murdock for being able to tell that.

“What happened, Fog?” His voice is all steelyrough, near enough to his bedroom voice that it makes Foggy’s spine melt. But it’s not his bedroom voice—it’s his Daredevillin’ voice.

“Are you gonna beat them up for hurting my feelings, Matty?”

“Maybe.” A shuffle. Foggy feels the corners of her mouth tug up into a smile. 

“They’re like, burgeoning soccer moms, Matt,” she says. “Probably be frowned upon to break their nose jobs, so maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What did they say, Foggy?” 

Foggy sighs and drags a hand through her hair before remembering she put it up for the night. It’s destroyed now anyway. _Keisha D is a dyke_ is scrawled in front of her on the grey stall door. _Homophobe!_ is scribbled beside it, and below it reads _love each other, ladies, no one else will_. Graffiti is a little different these days, but— _Mariah Delaney sucks dick for money_ —it’s not quite different enough.

“It’s no big deal,” she says. “Let’s just go. We can probably even find a way out without passing by the gym again.”

“Foggy.”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” Foggy says. “They just get to me because they became the fucking Greek chorus of all my self-doubt before I even hit puberty. I shouldn’t take it so personally, I know that, okay?”

“Can you come out, Fog?” Matt says. “Please?” And fuck if there isn’t pain in his voice, as if he was the one called _Fatty Foggy_ for twelve years straight, and Foggy’s eyes squeeze shut. 

Foggy stands up, dress catching on the toilet roll, fabric whispering against the toilet. She unlocks the stall and squeezes out. Matt’s got his brows all bunched up and his mouth all downturned. He tucks his cane under his arm, reaches a hand out and clasps the side of her neck, thumb swiping over her cheekbone.

“I’m fine,” she says.

“It doesn’t become true just because you want it to be,” Matt says, quiet.

“More heartbeat tricks, Murdock?”

“Nah,” he says. “Just a decade’s worth of in-depth Foggy Nelson study.”

Foggy tries a smile on him. It comes out all wrong. Matt takes a step forward and sets his forehead against hers.

“Who are you pretending for right now, Fog?” he whispers. “It’s just you and me here.”

“It’s the same old shit,” Foggy says. “Can we just get out of here, Matty, please?”

He nods but only moves closer. He envelops her in his arms and _God_ it feels good even when she feels like a blimp bumping against a warm, muscley wall. She breathes him deep and savors the sweep of his hands over her hips and onto the small of her back. His mouth opens against her pulse point and sends her heart surging in its cage even as her nipples tighten. 

“Matt—”

“You’re devastating, you know,” he says, voice vibrating down her spine. Foggy’s hands clench his shirt underneath his suit jacket. 

_Oh God, look at Fatty Foggy_ , Kori Maxwell had snickered. _Can only get a man if he’s blind as a bat._ Gina Gozales, Brandi Leek, Evelyn Demarco and Stefanie with an F tittered around her. Thin as ever with their perfect make up and eyebrows. Big old rocks on their most significant fingers. Fucking pearls and cardigans. 

“You make my knees weak with the kindness in your voice,” Matt says, kissing the corner of her mouth. “The sound of your smile makes my heart stumble.” The other corner now. “The smell of you drives me to distraction whether you’re freshly showered or crawling into bed after a long day.” Her nose. “And when I touch you, Foggy—” He feathers a kiss onto her right eye, and then her left. He squeezes her hips. “The way you fill my palms, every inch of you soft and smooth and warm like a balm on all my fried nerves, how I can feel the well of your life thumping against mine.” One hand slips under her neckline to rest over her heart. “You’re a force, Foggy, and nothing— _nothing_ can compare to that.”

“God, Matt,” Foggy breathes, shuddering out a soggy laugh. “I’m too old for high school bathroom sex.”

Matt’s smile is more beautiful than all the Kori Maxwells in the world. The hand one deep breath away from second base drops to her ass and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s go then,” he says. “You sure you don’t want me to slash some tires on the way out?”

“I’ve heard living well is the best revenge?” she says.

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Matt says. 

“I just want to not be here anymore,” Foggy says, “and I want it to happen in the most straightforward way possible.”

“We can do that,” Matt says. Foggy smiles at him and offers her elbow. He takes it and lets her lead them away. “You know,” he says, “I bet the Pearl Brigade’s never saved senior citizens with rent control from wrongful eviction, or rescued their friends from assault with just the power of their softball swing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Foggy says. “Get your ass outta the ladies’ room, Murdock.” He tilts his most rakish smile at her as they cross the threshold, and she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She looks powerful. 

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> I have a sprawling girl!Foggy verse in my head, as well as a lot more to say about the nature of beauty and attraction and weight and the path we're all on towards accepting ourselves and each other, but I hope this exorcism in 1200 words somehow captures the heart of it all. Shrug emoji.


End file.
